


Keep your friends close

by LovelyLittleGrim



Series: Kiss me, kill me [1]
Category: Deadly Class (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, takes place after Vegas trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 15:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLittleGrim/pseuds/LovelyLittleGrim
Summary: A short roof top conversation  between Marcus and Billy.





	Keep your friends close

Marcus doesn’t like the feeling of blood beneath his nails, he doesn’t like the color of it either— that rusty red that just sort of peeks through the off white and is near impossible to get rid of unless you rub your skin raw. His hands have never been cleaner and yet have never felt more dirty than after he’s killed someone.

“Are you tripping again?” A familiar voice calls out, tone light and yet worried all the same. “You’ve been looking at your hands for like an eternity.”

Marcus tips his head up slowly, movements lazy as he catches Billy’s eyes across the roof. He doesn’t know how long the other guy has been there, watching him stare at his hands like some lame ass. Marcus knows anyone else at this crazy school would be ashamed of being caught so unaware but he can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed about it. 

Billy arches a brow at him, and Marcus realizes he’s never answered the question.

He gives a quick shake of his head, his hands dropping to his thighs, fingers twisting in the expensive fabric of his uniform pants. “No, my days as the acid king are done.” 

Billy’s lips spread out into a quick smile as he ambles over, footsteps loud in the night. “Good, because dude, hate to break it to you, but you were not very good at ruling that domain.”

Marcus laughs at that, it’s a quiet sound, almost like it was pulled from somewhere very dark and low inside of him against his will. He watches as Billy’s smile drops away, curving into something closer to a frown.

He standing in front of Marcus now, body slack with the ease of being with a friend but his eyes are bright with something close to concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Marcus tells him instantly, he doesn’t want Billy to worry about him, he doesn’t want anyone to worry about him. “I’m good.”

“You don’t look good,” Billy says with his usual bluntness as he slides down the brick wall and sits next to him.

Their shoulders brush together and Marcus realizes for the first time that it’s actually chilly outside as Billy’s warmth seeps into his skin.

He shivers, gaze dropping back to his fingers so he doesn’t have to look at Billy.

His hands are clean, he knows that, but they feel dirty— caked with blood and guilt.

He’s not high, but he wishes he was. He’s exhausted. Sleep has always been difficult for him, but it’s gotten even worse since he’s become a literal killer. All he sees when he closes his eyes are the faces of the people he’s killed, all he hears are their angry voices yelling at him.

“Do you regret helping me?” Billy asks quietly.

Marcus jerks his head to the side to look at him. “No,” he says seriously.

He doesn’t like the sleepless nights but he wouldn’t change that if it meant that Billy would be hurt again. He hated seeing the bruises on Billy’s skin, the apologetic set of his shoulders as though being beat was somehow his fault and not his worthless fathers. 

Billy doesn’t look like he believes him, but he smiles anyway and Marcus hurries to speak again because he doesn’t want Billy to think he’s lying. Marcus has lied enough here, he’s sick of lies. Sick of letting people believe them. He just wants the truth out there now.

He turns his head and catches Billy’s eyes.

“I’m serious, I don’t regret it. Your old man deserved what he got. He should have never put his hands on you.”

Billy’s lips part like he’s unsure whether to smile or speak. He turns his head to the side and clears his throat, Marcus can hear how thick it sounds, like tears have clogged it though Billy’s cheek is dry.

“Thanks,” he whispers soft enough that Marcus almost misses it.

“Sure,” Marcus says easily, and gently knocks his shoulder into Billy’s, neither of them mention the fact that he doesn’t move away again but instead sinks into the pliant warmth that Billy’s body provides. “What are friends for.”

“Killing not-so-loved-ones apparently.”

The joke catches Marcus off guard and startles a laugh out of him. He doesn’t even think about trying to smother it, just lets the amusement wash over him in waves. It feels like it’s washing him clean, absolving him of his sins and he revels in it.

Beside him, Billy laughs too. Their bodies shaking in tandem as their laughter rings out over the empty roof top. Marcus thinks they’ll be okay, somehow, in all this craziness of revenge and assassins and death, he thinks they’ll be just fine as long as they stay close.


End file.
